


Aches and Pains

by RoseDeVents



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Dom Leo Fitz, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Spanking, Sub Jemma Simmons, The Framework Universe (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseDeVents/pseuds/RoseDeVents
Summary: An AU of Jemma entering the Framework at the end of 4x15. While Skye wakes up in a bathtub, Jemma wakes up in a very different (and compromising) position. Check the tags!
Relationships: Framework Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	Aches and Pains

**Author's Note:**

> I love the dom Fitz stories from Traviosita9124, Kienova, engineerleopoldfitz (aching_for_distance), LuckyFishy, memorizingthedigitsofpi, etc. but I am by no means an expert on BDSM so don’t hate me for inaccuracy … I’ve been trying to think of a way to get Jemma together with the Framework Fitz and this seemed like it could have been the X-rated version of Jemma waking up in the Framework.

It’s the strangest sensation in that it doesn’t feel strange at all.

One second, she’s on the Zephyr. She can feel the cold metal of the table she’s lying on. Her leg is aching from the stab wound inflicted by the LMD Fitz. It smells like an airplane does, stale and sterile.

She closes her eyes and she feels as though she has awakened from a dream, but the room she is in now is pitch black and she knows instantly she has entered the Framework.

_No wait, the room isn’t dark. She’s blindfolded._

The cover over her eyes is soft like silk, and it must be black because although she has her eyes open, she cannot see anything. Not even light underneath. She closes her eyes again and runs through her other senses to get her bearings:

 _Sound:_ It’s quiet. Eerily quiet. She thinks she can hear someone breathing but it’s too faint.

 _Taste:_ There is something in her mouth that she cannot quite pinpoint. Some sort of gag. Her teeth are clamped around it – perhaps plastic or silicone – and when she tries to move her jaw, she cannot. It is also tied so tightly around her head that she can’t spit it out.

 _Smell:_ Perhaps leather? Inconclusive. 

_Touch:_ Her hands are tied above her head and bound. The restraints feel like soft rope around her wrists. Her legs are shackled to the ground by something metallic, and spread wide. Her leg is no longer sore but she is unable to move it, which heightens her awareness of the other sensation she is feeling.

Because while her leg is no longer sore, her bum certainly is. Though it’s not outright pained, more like it’s aching. The skin feels hot but that’s nothing compared to what she feels between her legs. Her cunt is throbbing and she doesn’t remember ever feeling so turned on in her real life.

She knows she is completely naked and her heart starts to beat very fast in knowing just how vulnerable she is. _Is she being tortured?_ She and Daisy didn’t know much about where “they” were in the Framework before they plugged in; she just knew she would take over the avatar AIDA had created for her inside the program. She suddenly regrets walking in blind and tries to make herself wake up but she can’t: she’s locked in now.

She processes all of these sensations at once and in less than a minute. Her body feels like it is in overdrive. She reminds herself none of this is real. Her real body is laying in the Zephyr. But she’s also firmly aware that if she dies in the Framework, she’ll die in real life, too. She struggles against her restraints and tries to call out through the gag.

It’s silent until she hears the sound – followed by the sensation – of something smacking her bum, hard. She yelps. _What kind of torture is this?_ She tries to catch her breath and suddenly it strikes her again, but this time she can’t help but moan in pleasure from it.

Her cunt feels impossibly wet. She is still trying to gather her thoughts, but the pulsing desire in her body is making it difficult to think. She knows she should be ashamed in this moment, but she can’t help wondering if it _isn’t_ torture, after all. It seems to be quite an unusual method as she feels twice as much pleasure from it than pain.

“Something wrong, pet?” she hears a familiar Scottish lilt ask from behind her. 

“Fitz!” she tries to shout through the gag.

He makes a sharp, scolding tsk noise. “Oh, Jemma,” he says, running his hand delicately along her sore bum. “First, you start writhing and now you’re calling me by my surname, which you know I hate.” His hand slides underneath her body until his fingertips are pressing on her clit. He whispers close to her ear: “What am I going to do with you, you naughty girl?”

Jemma’s entire body shudders in response. She vaguely wonders what her body might be doing on the Zephyr; whether she’s aching for Fitz’s touch there the way she is in simulated reality. But the way he is teasing her virtual clit makes her forget all about killer robots and her mission: she focuses on the immediate need.

“You all right, pet?” he asks as his fingers rub circles on her convincingly real bundle of nerves.

“Mmm,” she moans, trying to push her hips into his hand. She can still barely move.

He stops abruptly and she moans again in frustration.

“Not quite yet,” he whispers.

She hears him walk around her to the other side of the room. His shoes click on the floor; they sound like the type of dress shoes Fitz would only wear for a special occasion. She hears him fiddling around with something. Her whole body sways toward the sound of him as he walks back toward her.

There’s a whooshing sound and then she’s struck on her breasts. It’s such an odd feeling – thin, velvety strands with hard edges. She supposes Fitz has gotten another instrument of pleasure/pain to torment her. _But why?_ As he continues to strike her with it, she starts to feel the same ache on her torso that she was feeling on her back side. What confuses her, is how that directly correlates to the arousal between her legs.

She simultaneously wishes she could speak to Fitz and is also glad she can’t. She’s solely focused on the sensations in and on her body, and it makes her very happy she entered the Framework to experience it. _Oh, no._ The thought reminds her that her arousal isn’t real. She’s not really being dominated by Fitz. She’s actually on the Zephyr. And she has a mission. Which is … _what exactly?_ Another heavenly smack across her belly narrows her thoughts.

 _Oh right, to leave this place_. This place where she is getting closer and closer to an orgasm by the second. Her scientific curiosity is piqued with the possibility. But no, she has to find a way to stop this so she can take Fitz to the rendezvous point with Daisy.

 _But how?_ She’s completely at his mercy, and Fitz doesn’t seem to sense the urgency that they need to escape as soon as possible. The last time she tried to speak, in fact, he chastised her. She resigns herself to the notion that to fulfill her mission, she’ll have to see this through to the end. And isn’t that a shame? 

He stops striking her with the … _what is it, a flogger perhaps?_ It’s silent again until he speaks, and he somehow got very close to her face without her detecting it. His hot breath on her face sends electricity through her body. 

“Your skin is all pink now,” he says roughly, “just the way I like it. Would you like to see?”

She nods vigorously. She didn’t know Fitz would enjoy something like this, or she would have suggested it in the real world. Maybe if he removes the blindfold, she can communicate with him that they need to get out of here. After they take care of her aching desire, of course.

He slides the blindfold up her forehead and over her hair slowly. Her eyes adjust to the dim light of the room, which seems to be a preposterous thing to do considering she knows her eyes are actually closed on the Zephyr. The walls are stark white so she can immediately see that neatly hung across the wall in front of her are various instruments of torture: paddles, whips, floggers and things she can’t even identify. She would gasp if she could.

Fitz makes his way into her sightline and he’s smiling at her, but it’s not a smile she recognizes. In fact, aside from the piercing blue eyes, she barely recognizes him at all. He has a perfectly manicured beard and a utilitarian haircut – shaved on the sides and well-coifed, slick with gel on the top. He’s wearing a three-piece suit that’s obviously been tailor-made for him, with the shiny dress shoes she heard earlier.

Fitz looks … _sexy_.

But there’s also a coldness about him, and something about him seems inherently dangerous. Maybe there’s a connection to the activity they are engaging in currently. In his hand is presumably the flogger he’s been using. Surprisingly, the last thing she notices about him is the bulge in his pants, waiting to be freed.

He cocks his head slightly. “While I appreciate you drinking me in like that, I gave you an instruction.”

She furrows her brow and he gestures toward her torso. She looks down; she is, indeed, flushed pink from her breasts to her knees – though she doesn’t feel like she’s in any pain. She glances back up at Fitz, who is looking at her hungrily. He’s also quite pleased with himself, as his smug look is unfortunately very familiar to her.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten _your_ instructions, pet,” he says. He walks slowly toward the wall of torture devices and places the flogger meticulously back in its spot. He stands back as if reviewing his options. Then he turns and gives her that wicked smile again.

He stalks toward her like she’s his prey and as he does, he removes his jacket. He lays it carefully on the end of the bed that she only just realized is mostly out of her viewpoint to the right.

Next he unbuckles his belt, still smirking at her. He removes it from around his waist and holds it in his hands carefully. Her eyes widen as she suspects what he’s about to do.

“You said you wanted bruises this time, Jemma,” he says, almost innocently. He walks closer until his fingertips can slide up her thighs, along her folds, past her belly button and rest on her breast. His other hand holds the leather belt, which he rubs over her sensitive skin. He tweaks her nipple sharply and she lets out a moan.

“You know I prefer silence, pet,” he whispers. He presses the leather strap into her clit and she lets her body react but manages to keep quiet, as he commanded. “Good girl,” he says. “Now if you keep being good after this,” he swats her pussy lightly with the leather, “I’ll let you come.”

She’s so desperate for her release that she feels as though she’d be willing to do anything for him in this moment. Still, she is bracing herself for the belt to feel quite painful and she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to keep quiet when he strikes her. She focuses on the promise of an orgasm, and she hopes that also leads to being taken out of the restraints so she can bring Fitz to meet Daisy. But first things first.

“Brace yourself, pet,” he says dangerously as he takes a few steps back. “I’ve decided on 5; don’t make it 10.”

She steels herself as he lifts his arm. The belt comes down with a crack against her thigh. She’d flinch if she could move at all, but she manages not to make a sound.

“Good girl,” he says grinning from ear to ear. It doesn’t take a genius to notice that he’s enjoying this immensely. He gets closer to her again and rubs the spot where he struck her. “I think we might need to go a bit harder,” he says. “To get you what you want … how did you phrase it?” He looks into her eyes knowing she can’t speak. “You wanted to ‘see my marks on you for a week’?” Her eyes widen as he leans down to kiss the spot. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

He steps back and this time when he brings his belt down on her thigh, he uses significantly more force. For the first time, she feels more pain than pleasure. She bites down hard on the gag to prevent herself from crying out. He smiles at her again before delivering another blow. Her body shakes with the force and her cunt pulses. Still, she manages to keep quiet.

“Very good, pet,” he whispers in awe, stepping forward to soothe her skin with this fingertips. “Two to go.”

He does the next two quickly and she wants to moan out in gratitude that it’s over but she remembers his promise and hopes he’s about to deliver on the next part. He drops the belt on the floor and kneels before her, kissing and licking the spots where she _knows_ she will have bruises soon. Well, if this were real.

She moves her hips, hoping his mouth will make its way further up her thighs. He looks up at her and laughs. “So impatient,” he scolds. He moves his mouth off of her completely and stands up.

“You did so well, pet,” he says, stroking her cheek. “It’s time we both got what we needed, hmm?” She looks down at the bulge in his pants and he smirks at her.

He reaches up high to untie her hands and brings her arms down from above her head. She’s somehow been ignoring the soreness of her arms, and is relieved to feel the circulation is restored. Or not, since this isn’t real. But it _feels_ real. It feels _so real_.

It surprises her when he grabs her arms and reties them behind her back. She looks at him, confused, but he’s concentrating on the knot. He swats her sore bum playfully. Next he takes her feet out of the shackles on the floor. She stretches her freed legs and looks at him expectantly.

He takes off his vest and rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt while she watches him. “On the bed,” he says, nodding toward it.

He guides her across the room with his hand on her hip and instead of laying her down, he pushes her face first onto it. Her feet are planted on the floor and her bum is in the air, but it’s not uncomfortable. Her pulse is racing as she waits for what’s next. He sticks his fingers between her thighs forcefully and all too soon they are removed; she hears him suck them into his mouth and let out a low growl.

Thankfully, he removes the gag from her mouth next. “I want to hear you for this next part. You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

She flexes her jaw open and closed until it’s relaxed, and considers if there’s anything she wants to say. Before she can, she hears the zip of his trousers and decides she can tell him everything once their immediate needs have been satisfied. He slides into her pussy so slowly that she pushes her hips up into him with a whimper. He laughs and presses his hands firmly into her hips.

“I’m still in control, pet,” he warns. “Remember that.”

He makes her wait another minute and, realizing she is now free to speak, she begs him to start moving. “Please,” she moans.

He pushes in and out of her slowly at first, till she begs him again. And again. Only then does he oblige her. He thrusts his cock into her roughly and at a frenzied pace. He slaps her ass a few times and she yelps, but she mostly uses her voice to moan with pleasure – careful not to call out his name. As he fucks her from behind into the mattress, her clit is striking the edge and all too soon, she is coming.

She can’t remember an orgasm this intense and she wonders how much of it has to do with the way Fitz got her there and how much of it is the Framework. He slams into her pussy ruthlessly until he hits his own climax, releasing his cum forcefully inside of her. Then he lets his body relax on top of her as he kisses all the skin he can reach – her neck, her shoulder, her deltoid and trapezius.

He unties her hands and gently flips her onto her back. He’s smiling down on her and his fingertips smooth over her pink skin and the newly forming bruises on her thighs.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he whispers in awe. 

She tries to gather her thoughts and articulate the plan she made with Daisy. But first she needs to assess Fitz’s awareness to their situation, since he’s been acting quite unlike himself. “Fitz, you know this isn’t real, right?” she manages to say hoarsely.

He looks at her in confusion and laughs almost cruelly. “Jemma, did I spank you too hard this time?” He tucks himself back into his boxers and zips up his trousers.

She props herself up on her elbows as he carefully unrolls his sleeves and puts on his vest. “What do you mean ‘this time’?”

He looks like he could walk right into a business meeting while she knows she’s still a sweaty mess. She wants to memorize this look so they can recreate it in the real world. He looks so different in a three-piece suit.

“We don’t have time for another scene, Jemma,” he scolds. "We need to get back to the lab." He runs his hand through his hair to smooth it out. He takes his suit jacket off the bed and puts it on, straightening out any wrinkles.

“No, we can’t go to the lab,” she tries to explain. She stands up from the bed, feeling a bit wobbly.

“Easy there,” he says, catching her. “I’ll go get that cream for you.” He lowers her back down.

He crosses the room and comes back with a bottle of lotion and a towel. She tries to think of the right words to explain it, since Fitz seems to be unaware they are in the Framework. She wonders what else he is unaware of. He rolls her gently onto her stomach and rubs the lotion over her bum and the backs of her legs. Her skin immediately feels soothed.

“You were so good for me, Jemma,” he praises her. He kisses her tailbone lightly.

He uses the towel to clean between her legs, then he gently turns her over and starts rubbing the lotion on her breasts. All she can do is observe him, taking note of how delicately he is touching her now compared to before. When he moves down her body, she tries to be more direct.

“Fitz, do you know we’re in the Framework?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asks distractedly as his hands rub lotion onto her thighs.

“You mean ‘Fitz’?” she asks, confused. “I’ve always called you that.”

He looks at her darkly. “Are you angling for another spanking?”

She swallows and she feels a pulse between her legs, where he is coincidentally working lotion into her skin. “I … um …” she says.

He sighs. “We don’t have time for that, as you know. We need to get back to Project Looking Glass. Madame Hydra says we are running out of time to complete it.”

“Madame Hydra?” she asks, even more confused than she was before.

“ _Did_ I spank you too hard?” he asks, closing the bottle of lotion and tossing it onto the bed. He looks around for his belt and grabs it off the floor, threading it through his belt loops.

“Fitz, none of that matters,” she says, shaking her head. “We need to find Daisy. She and I found a way to get you out of here. We built a backdoor into the Framework.”

“Daisy?” he asks, picking up what she assumes are her clothes from where they were neatly folded on a chair. “Who’s Daisy?”

“You don’t remember Daisy?” she asks, concerned.

He lays her clothes out for her on the bed and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve told you twice already: we don’t have time for another scene. Now get dressed, we don’t want to make Madame Hydra wait.”

He helps her to her feet and kisses her lovingly, then walks out the door of the room. Jemma doesn’t know what to say or do so she gets dressed and follows him, thinking she can’t possibly find anything more surprising in the Framework than the way she woke up in it. A theory that will be proven wrong almost the instant she walks out the door.


End file.
